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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/26363125">Take Me Home, Country Roads</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/avenging_gleefully/pseuds/avenging_gleefully'>avenging_gleefully</a>, <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pizzzazlut/pseuds/Pizzzazlut'>Pizzzazlut</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Clyde/Hux Universe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Logan Lucky (2017), Star Wars - All Media Types</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Universe, Kylux Adjacents, M/M, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, ship name: Clux, the ship i didn't know i needed, we have free tissues for your tears</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-09-08</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-06 06:20:40</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Teen And Up Audiences</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>2,814</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/26363125</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/avenging_gleefully/pseuds/avenging_gleefully, https://archiveofourown.org/users/Pizzzazlut/pseuds/Pizzzazlut</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>Clyde had no idea when the man had wandered into the bar, didn’t even see him sit down. His eyes were immediately focused on the way the man was hunched over in his seat as if he was protecting himself from an unknown enemy. The exhausted look on his face told Clyde that he had been on the road for a while, eyes cast down forlornly.</p>
<p>It stirred something in Clyde. He’s seen that look before.</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Relationships:</b></td><td>Armitage Hux/Clyde Logan</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series:</b></td><td>Clyde/Hux Universe [1]</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Series URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/series/1999618</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>50</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>Take Me Home, Country Roads</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
      <p>Hello all! </p>
<p>This was originally a long twit fic between myself and the wonderful @shellyannerie on Twitter and it just HAD to be posted here. A million thanks to Shelly for opening my eyes to the beauty that is Clyde/Hux &lt;3</p>
    </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>
  <span>Hux had no idea why he chose this planet. He just knew he needed to escape the First Order before it was too late, choosing the planet in the Unknown Regions at random.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It all looked so strange to Hux.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The skies were dark as he stepped out of his ship, the rustling of leaves on the trees and odd chirping sound that he couldn’t seem to find the source of where it came from filled the night air. He debates whether he should stay in the safety on the ship or risk running into anyone who could recognize him here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He had nothing to lose, really.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux gave the hidden ship a final look, making sure it was concealed from the road where he could see lights of whatever transport crafts that were used on this planet. Hux had no idea how long he walked, didn’t know what time it was or how long he had before the sun rose. He simply walked towards the glow in the distance that signaled to civilization.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux was too enthralled by the odd transportation crafts used on the planet by what he could tell were human like him. He was thankful for his observant ways when he noticed how many of these crafts were headed to the same place.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Duck Tape.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The sign was bright and Hux had no idea what those words meant but the way people came in and out of the building made him think perhaps it was a cantina of sorts. He could hear music filter through the doors every time someone opened them to walk out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux took a deep breath, tightening his coat around him to hide anything that could give him away to First Order spies. The gravel underneath his boots sounded far too loud in Hux’s ear but he knew he was being paranoid.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>No one could find him here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>There was no way.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux greeted an older gentleman that sat outside on the porch of the establishment, nodding in greeting as he pushed through the front door. Hux had been right, it was a local cantina and he felt a wave of relief knowing that he wasn’t going to look like a fool here. At least, not yet. He made his way over the bar, avoiding looking at anyone in the eye as he passed by. Loud bolstering laughs came from a far corner where a large group of people who were holding what looked like thin wooden sticks as they used one end of it to hit several balls on a table. Hux didn’t have time to even try to figure that out, his mind too exhausted to figure out the odd things he’s already seen on this planet.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde Logan had all his attention focused on the ten shot glasses that were lined up on the bar top, meticulously pouring whiskey into all of them with ease. It was a quiet night for a Friday aside from the two groups of friends who decided to host some kind of reunion at the bar. Every night was the same; Clyde would work until closing time and head home to his trailer. Alone.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It was fine. He was fine with his life.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde accepted the cash for the drinks and he made his way over to the cash register when he saw him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde had no idea when the man had wandered into the bar, didn’t even see him sit down. His eyes were immediately focused on the way the man was hunched over in his seat as if he was protecting himself from an unknown enemy. The exhausted look on his face told Clyde that he had been on the road for a while, eyes cast down forlornly.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>It stirred something in Clyde. He’s seen that look before.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Wordlessly, Clyde flipped a clean shot glass onto the bar top before grabbing a bottle of Jack Daniels as he began to pour a copious amount of amber liquid into the glass. Placing the glass carefully on a clean napkin, Clyde slid the drink over to the man who had yet to move from the same position Clyde had seen him last.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux was lost in his own thoughts as he saw movement in his peripheral vision, eyes flicking to the side in time to see a large hand slide a glass that looked small in comparison.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He’s immediately suspicious, knowing fully well that he didn’t order anything nor gave the man any indication that he wanted one. Hux doesn’t have any credits to pay for it anyway.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“You look like you’re havin’ a rough night. This one is on the house.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The underlying suspicion only grows as Hux stares at the man, taking in the fact that he made everything around seem so small. In the end, Hux nods at the bartender before accepting the offered drink, too exhausted to argue, too empty to deny the welcoming numbness achieved only by alcohol.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you,” Hux’s voice is quiet and he misses the way Clyde’s eyebrows rise in surprise upon hearing his accent.</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The bar is busy, but that doesn’t stop Clyde from taking a minute or two to check up on the lone stranger sitting at the far end of the bar. He takes the bottle in hand again before pouring the man another drink, unprompted because Clyde finally realized why the empty look in his eyes made sense.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>This man didn’t have to be American for Clyde to recognize another soldier, a lost soul from war. Even though he couldn’t place the uniform or the marking on it, Clyde recognizes that thousand-yard stare. Vaguely, Clyde wonders if the man has anywhere to or if he has a place to stay.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Trauma is universal.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux can’t help looking up at the man as he quietly serves the other patrons. Why was he so attentive? He didn’t ask him so why bother? Did he expect something in return for his kindness?</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The hours pass and before Clyde knows it, it’s already closing time.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The soldier hasn’t moved, and by the looks of him, hasn’t had a decent meal either. “It’s almost closin’ time. You got somewhere to go?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde watches as the stranger looks up with the most striking, piercing green eyes. “I…I’m sure I’ll find a place.” Clyde looks up slightly, visualizing the woods that span for miles around them. He wouldn’t find anything if he tried.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>A sudden feeling washes over Clyde as he remembers that helpless, empty feeling he felt every time he came back from deployment. He was blessed to have had his family to help him pull through the dark times but this man? Clearly he was alone and in need of someone to help him just like Clyde had been helped. His trailer wasn’t big, but there was a spare bed his brother used when he was too drunk to drive home and a shower that had the hottest water but that’s what the man looked like he needed.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I have a room you can stay in if you need a place to stay,” Clyde said, keeping his eyes cast down as he stood still. “There ain’t motels around here for miles.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux narrows his eyes a little. No one is simply altruistic without wanting something in return. But his ship doesn’t have any living quarters and he doesn’t think his back could bear trying to sleep in the cockpit. “What’s the catch?” Hux has no money. He only has his body.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde feels a number of emotions as he hears the almost fearful tone in the other man’s voice. “There’s no catch, just tryin’ to help a fellow soldier. What battalion were you?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux knows there’s nothing about this man that is intimidating. Even his strange accent is soothing. Hux would be a fool to trust him but he’s so </span>
  <em>
    <span>tired</span>
  </em>
  <span>. He’s been tired for such a long time. “I’m a General.” He doesn’t dare name the First Order out loud. “Or I was.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde can see the other man’s shoulders visibly sag as he spoke and it makes Clyde make up his mind. “Then I won’t take no for an answer. I’ll take this for the road,” he said, shaking a full bottle of whiskey and making it slosh loudly. The man…the General deserved this night of peace.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux doesn’t really have an alternative and the prospect of drinking himself into a stupor is rather appealing. If this barkeep turns out to a killer, Hux isn’t even sure that he’d mind. “Lead the way.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Closing up the bar doesn’t take much time, but Clyde is still surprised the man hasn’t run off by the time he’s walking toward his car. Clyde notices he’s empty-handed, no military issued duffel bag in tow. He frowns at the man. “Don’t you have things to bring along?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>What little things Hux has are back at the ship and that’s just some rations and medical supplies. He shrugs, leveling the man with his coolest stare daring him to pity him. “Nothing of consequence.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde didn’t even argue, knew it was counterproductive when someone was in that same headspace he remembered so vividly. The self-preservation was radiating off of the other man in waves.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>The drive home was quiet. Clyde was never a good conversationalist like his brother Jimmy. It didn’t matter though; the other man enjoyed the silence as much as he did. Once home, Clyde showed him the spare room and adjacent bathroom. “Everything you see in my home is up for grabs.” He still held the bottle of whiskey in his hand. “You look like you haven’t eaten. I can make us something.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>When and what had Hux last eaten? Certainly nothing substantial in recent memory. “I’ve had rations.” Yesterday, he left out.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde makes a face at that. MRE’s are tasteless at best. “Well, I’m fresh out of rations. But I can make some eggs. Or pasta if you want?” Those are quick and easy, though the eggs would probably be the best option for him. You have to train your stomach back to real food first. “Do you have a name, General?”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux trembles. Ren used to call him that in another life. “Hux,” he said quietly. His first name might be wiser, but he doesn’t think he’ll be comfortable going by that. Hux watched him move around the small kitchen. He’s so massive that if Hux had any sense of humor right now, he’d point out how ridiculous he looked. “I didn’t ask for yours.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde looked up at Hux as he scrambled some eggs, shooting a gentle smile at him before turning back to the frying pan. “Clyde Logan.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He waited for recognition to dawn on Hux, waiting for that same reaction everyone had when they heard his surname. Clyde spared the other man a glance but dropped his gaze when he noticed Hux was staring at him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux thinks the name is odd but somehow it suits the giant of a man with a gentle smile. This has to be a rise, no one is this giving. Especially not to someone like Hux, but his guard is down and he wants to believe. He feels like he should be doing something, not standing around at parade rest staring at how that large hand is doing all the work. The other hand…well, it’s not there. Why hadn’t anyone given Logan a proper replacement and not that sad excuse for a prosthetic?</span>
  <span><br/>
</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux is thinking too much. Clyde can tell even in the silence. “At ease soldier.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde watched as Hux’s eyes narrowed just slightly before his body betrayed his mind, visibly relaxing and letting himself lean on the faux wood paneling on the wall beside him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Were you a storm- soldier, as well?” Hux manages to catch his mistake, cursing himself for already letting his guard down.  </span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde nods as he hands Hux a heaping bowl of eggs. “You don’t have to, you know…open up to me. I know the feeling too well.” He grabs two glass tumblers from a nearby cabinet and uncaps the bottle of whiskey with ease, pouring a copious amount of liquid for both of them.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux settles in, eating the eggs progressively faster after each bite. They’re good; fluffy and tasty yet bland enough that he doesn’t immediately feel sick. In the First Order, eggs were a delicacy and non-powdered ones were practically unheard of.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>They eat in silence, but Clyde doesn’t mind. He’s not used to having company over, only Jimmy and Mellie on nights they decide to take the party to Clyde’s place after the bar closes.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Your hand. Did that happen when you were a soldier?” Hux hates himself as soon as he says it. The whiskey is warm in his belly, making his tongue soft. “I…forget I said that.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No, it’s alright,” Clyde gives his prosthetic arm a contemplative look as it sits on the table. “You’re the only person who would understand what it’s like…to live that life.” Hux looks at Clyde now, really looks at him. He can see that weary look in his eyes.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>In the First Order, there had never been time to decompress. There was always the next scheme, the next assignment. Constantly looking over your shoulder at the target on your back. But now? Hux has nothing but time and all his 35 years have come crashing down. This man, Clyde, has some of the same shadows that haunt him. It’s a kinship Hux never imagined he’d find. “I was hit. A bolt to my leg and one to my chest.” If he hadn’t had his blaster resistant armor, he’d be dead. “I was relieved of my duties then.”</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde listens to him attentively, slightly confused at the choice of wording about what was used to injure him, but he simply assumed it was slang other countries used to refer to bullets. He wasn’t cultured or knowledgeable about a lot of things.</span>
  
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux saw the intense look in the other man’s eyes, a familiarity of what it was like to be wounded in battle and to live to tell the tale. It was unnerving and comforting at the same time, saving Hux from the unwanted look of pity he didn’t feel like receiving just now.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“No one ever understands what it’s like,” Clyde speaks softly, remembering his aversion to loud voices and sounds. Even to this day, he has to take a breather if a sound that reminds him of the explosion that took his arm is heard nearby.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I suppose that’s a good thing,” Hux offers just as quietly, scrapping at his bowl with his fork as he realized that he had managed to eat the entire serving of eggs. “I am indebted to you for your kindness and generosity but I- “</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde cuts him off with a wave of his hand, shifting in his seat as he smiles bashfully. “You don’t owe me a thing. I meant what I said, anything in here is yours to use. Get all the rest you need.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux, for all his bravado and stubbornness, had never been rendered speechless by someone else’s selflessness. This man was nothing like the men he’d known or worked with before. Hux was used to them wanting to take advantage of him, lying in wait to strike at Hux’s most vulnerable moment.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde exuded the exact opposite; He was peace and reassurance no matter how much Hux tried to find a flaw in his plan.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Eventually, the meal and whiskey paired with the weary exhaustion Hux felt in his bones caught up with him as he felt his head lull forward as Clyde spoke about driving him to the store tomorrow to get some things.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Don’t go falling asleep at the table now,” Clyde told him, unable to stop the gentle teasing as he smiled at Hux before standing slowly to guide him towards the room he’d be staying in.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“I- Thank you, I don’t know how I could- “</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Clyde cut him off again. “If you keep sayin’ that I’ll have you workin’ at the bar to pay your debt,” he said as he stepped away from Hux once they reached the room. “You get some sleep, as much as you need.”</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>“Thank you, Logan. Thank you,” Hux managed to say before closing the door behind him.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>Hux didn’t bother taking off his coat, didn’t even bother to take off his boots. The bed was comfortable, and the sheets were soft underneath him as he felt his eyelids begin to droop. He felt warm and full and for the first time, he wasn’t afraid to let himself sleep.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>His last thought was of a gentle smile and kind eyes that made him feel like everything would be alright.</span>
</p>
<p>
  <span>He knew he would be safe here.</span>
</p>
<p>
  
</p>
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